The Reaper Cometh (Abandoned)
by Death546
Summary: Dead story
1. Enter the Reaper

**Hello readers! So this is just the first chapter, a bit of an introduction. Short and sweet. When a hooded menace makes his way into Gotham, he brings the threat of changing Gotham forever. Question is, is it for the better, or for worse?**

 **Disclaimer: I own nothing Batman related.**

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Gotham. A cesspool of scum and corruption. A breeding ground for criminals. One of the highest yearly death tolls of any city in America. And yet, despite all of its horrors, it would be infinitely worse were it not for one man. One man who made a difference. Who put everything on the line to protect the innocent, and bring the evil to justice. The Batman was a symbol of hope for the good, a figure of fear for the bad. For years now, he has made the city a safer place. He cut crime in half since he first started protecting the dark city.

But one man could only do so much. One man could only prevent so many criminals from wreaking havoc at once. On another dark night in the city, two brothers in crime were awaiting a victim, hiding in the dark alleyway, Dan with his knife drawn. Paul hung back with his gun drawn, backup in case their unfortunate victim tried to fight back. Dan grinned, motioning to his partner to get ready as a young woman with a fat looking purse approached them. He heard a muffled cry and a thump, and turned to see that Paul had been snatched away. He paled. Batman was no longer a legend, and he was well known and well feared by the criminals of Gotham. "B-Batman! Come out, or… or I'll…" he remembered the woman right as she passed by the alleyway. He grabbed her, covering her mouth and pressing the blade against her throat. "I'll cut her open! I swear to God I will!" He screamed at the shadows, eyes darting back and forth as he searched for the crime fighter in the darkness.

His eyes shot to the outline of a figure shrouded in black. "Don't come any closer!" He commanded, fear gripping his heart as he struggled to keep to the squirming, terrified woman to his body. She was the only thing standing between him and broken bones and prison.

The figure stepped out of the shadows, and Dan's eyes widened. "You… you're not…" he was cut off by the sudden movement of the figure, gasping as a fist closed around his throat, his vision going hazy as he was ripped from the woman, who in turn fled the alley. He struggled for air, his vision going black, slipping into black unconsciousness…

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The brothers woke at the same time by warm liquid splashing against them. Dan was the first to regain his vision, staring into a black void. He screamed as the full figure came into his vision. He seemed to loom over them, a black tunic topped by black leather armor, a hood shrouding his face in complete darkness. A scythe hung on his back, a silver crucifix hung from his neck, and in his right hand he was clutching the handle of a gasoline tank. Paul groaned, and Dan looked at him to see him strung up on… a cross? He gasped as he saw his own bound hands and feet, strung up on a cross of his own. "Who… who are you?" He stammered.

The man seemed to bore into him. "I… am divine justice. I am the one who delivers the sinners of the world to their fiery fate. I am Death." He spoke, his voice gravelly and rasping. "Dan and Paul Buckhold, you are here on this night to answer for your sins."

Dan and Paul shared a glance of fear. "W-we didn't do nuthin'!" Paul stammered. "W-we were framed!"

"Shut the hell up. You can lie to me, but the one judge that matters, you can't lie to him." The man growled, anger resonating off of him. He reached into a satchel at his side, and removed a handful of photos. He tossed them to the ground at their feet, and the brothers recognized them. Crime scene photos, of a woman with her clothes torn, violated and her throat cut. "Janine Goldberg. Two weeks ago, the two of you broke into her home, and raped her. Cut her throat when you were done. Stole her jewelry and valuables, leaving her for her husband to find when he returned from work." He growled, his voice never rising but the intensity of his rage increasing. Dan and Paul averted their eyes from the photos, and the man grabbed their heads and snapped them back to the photos. "Look! Look at what you _did._ " The man commanded. "And I know she is only one of many. There is no forgiveness for what you have done, and you shall face the fires of Hell for your sins." he hissed.

"P-please, don't…" Paul begged. "W-we'll plead guilty! We'll go to jail, just don't kill us!"

The man let out a mirthless laugh. "No. You must suffer for what you've done." He tossed the tank away, pulling a box of matches from his satchel.

Dan remembered waking up to the feeling of liquid splashing over them, and the smell of gasoline hit him, causing his eyes to widen. "NO! No, please! We'll do anything!"

The man stared at him as he lit a match. "Anything?" Dan nodded furiously. "Then _burn._ " he tossed the match at their feet, and the brothers screamed as the flames engulfed them, their bodies writhing against the cross. The man watched, unmoving. He watched until they stopped screaming, until all that could be heard was the hissing of flesh and flame, the crackle of the fire. He turned silently towards the exit. These men were only one of many in this city, and The Reaper didn't intend to leave until the city was rid of the monsters that it was plagued by.

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An hour later, the abandoned factory was swarming with police. Commissioner Gordon and Detective Bullock watched as the forensics team combed the area for evidence, trying to keep from looking at the grisly scene in front of them. Gordon glanced at his partner, cringing. "How are you eating right now?"

Bullock glared at him as he bit down into his donut. "Lay off, I didn't eat dinner. I'm hungry."

Gordon rolled his eyes. Sensing a familiar presence, he turned in time to see Batman drop from the windows above, walking silently towards the scene. He watched as the Bat kneeled down, examining the bodies. "So far no DNA has been recovered. All that was left when we arrived were these two skeletons strung up on these crosses, traces of gasoline, and these photos." He informed the detective, handing him the photos. Batman took them, studying them. "The woman in those photos is Janine Goldberg. About two weeks ago she was found by her husband, raped and murdered in their home. We identified her attackers as Dan and Paul Buckhold, but we were unable to apprehend them. We need to perform a DNA test with the bones, but I'm fairly certain those skeletons are the remains of those two."

Batman handed the photos back to the Commissioner. "So this was a murder of vengeance."

"That's what we think. I've already sent a squad to find Mr. Goldberg, he's a prime suspect for this." Bullock said.

Gordon glanced at the detective. "Wasn't Mr. Goldberg a history professor? I don't think we would be capable of pulling this off, especially without leaving so much as a hair for evidence."

Batman gazed around the factory. "I agree. This was done by someone who knows what they're doing. And if I recall correctly, Goldberg was an outspoken atheist. There's obviously a religious factor here, these men were burned alive on a cross."

Gordon nodded. "So, anyone in mind?"

The Bat furrowed his brow. "It doesn't match the MO's of anyone we know of… Zsasz is still in Arkham… and this isn't the Joker's doing." Gordon scratched his chin as he thought, while Batman switched to Detective vision. He gazed around the room, and writing on the wall caught his attention. Smack dab between the bodies. He pointed at it. "What's that?"

"The writing? We didn't think anything of it, there's graffiti all over the damn place." Bullock dismissed, looking around.

Batman narrowed his eyes, walking over to the wall. He read aloud, "'The soul who sins shall die. The righteousness of the righteous shall be upon himself, and the wickedness of the wicked shall be upon himself. Ezekiel 18:20.'" Batman raised his eyebrow as he looked at further writing beneath the quote. "'Sinners, beware the Reaper, for the time for redemption is passed. Divine justice shall be enacted by my blade, the Reaper cometh.'"

Bullock's donut fell out of his mouth. "The fuck was that? What kinda wackjob are we dealing with?"

Gordon walked up behind the Bat, furrowing his brow. "A new vigilante. And this one doesn't seem to follow your morals, Batman."

Batman turned to his friend. "No. He doesn't. I get the feeling this 'Reaper' isn't stopping with these two."

Gordon looked back at the defeated forensics. "No DNA… no fingerprints, blood, hair, nothing."

"Which means he's been doing this awhile." Batman thought aloud, frowning. "I'll be going. Goodnight, Commissioner." He said, firing his grapnel at the window and disappearing into the night.

Gordon turned to the rest of the officers and lab geeks. "I think we've found everything we're going to find. Let's head back to the station and analyze what we have so far."

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 **Aaaand that's the first chapter! A new force in Gotham, this one with a thirst for blood. Will the Bat be able to stop him before any more murders occur? Let me know what you think so far in the reviews.**


	2. Tick Tock

Second chapter

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Bruce sat at his Batcomputer, researching. He hadn't slept at all last night, going over as tring of murders across the country that matched the MO of the previous night's killer. Burned on crosses, decapitations, dismemberment, crucifixion. All victims were criminals, almost all were murderers and rapists. Occasionally The Reaper took down organized crime, mob members. And the more evil the crimes, the more brutal the kills were. And at each scene, a Bible verse, typically about hell, death, and sinners, were scrawled around the bodies. Always accompanied by the same message, "Sinners beware the Reaper, the time for redemption is passed. Divine justice shall be enacted by my blade, the Reaper cometh."

Alfred set a platter with coffee and eggs next to the detective. "I suppose you ignored my advice and stayed up all night, Master Bruce?" he said, sighing. "Need I remind you that you have a fundraiser to attend tonight?"

Batman grimaced as he opened yet another bloody picture. "This Reaper has been at this a long time… these murders go back years… and never any trace of evidence left behind. He's a master of his craft."

Alfred cringed at the photo, a convicted murderer sliced to pieces. "Ah. One of those enemies." he commented, turning to walk back up to the mansion. "Do try to get some sleep before tonight, sir."

Bruce narrowed his eyes, taking in all the information. He set the homicide files aside, and opened a series of reports by witnesses. All saved victims… a woman who claimed a black figure in a hood saved her from muggers. A man who said he was saved from death by a man in a black cloak. A kidnapped child who said a black angel saved her. And accompanied by all these reports… mutilated bodies of the assailants. He sighed, leaning back in his chair. This reminded him of the Phantasm, but not nearly as gruesome.

He was retrieved from his thoughts by the Batcomputer flashing. He scowled, Killer Croc had escaped Arkham.

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Police were already setting a perimeter by the time Batman arrived. He squinted his eyes against the rising sun, surveying the scene. He raised a hand to his cowl. "Oracle, what are the reports on Croc?"

Barbara's voice came crisp and clear to him. "Police reports state that he smashed his way out of his cage, and made his way into the sewers. They lost track of him about eight minutes ago."

"So he could be anywhere by now." Batman responded. "Oracle, try… I have to go. I'll call you back." Batman switched off the communicator before she could respond, following a shadowy figure who he had just caught sight of running across the rooftops away from the Asylum.

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Croc splashed his way through his domain. His bulky frame never impeded his progress, this was his turf. He growled, picking up the scent of construction workers. His teeth turned upward in a twisted grin as he silently made his way towards the voices, his stomach growling.

He dove into the water, sneaking up on the unsuspecting workers. Once he was close enough, he leapt out of the water, snarling. He grabbed a worker, breaking his spine as the others screamed and ran. Croc tossed the fallen worker aside to collect later, giving chase to the rest of the workers. They ran down a tunnel, trying to outmaneuver him. But this was his terrain, and he would not be outrun by these men. He snarled again, running into an open area. He spotted the workers running through another tunnel on the other side. He grinned his toothy grin, stalking towards the entrance, when suddenly he went blind. He roared, clawing at his face, tugging at the sack that had been placed over his head. He ripped it apart, turning around in a full circle. He saw nothing, and sniffed the air. It wasn't the bat, no… this was a new scent. And it reeked of death. "Who dares enter my domain?!" He growled, sniffing the air to locate the new scent.

"Wayland Jones. Murderer. Cannibal. Professional criminal." A gravelled voice rang out.

Croc narrowed his eyes, glaring through the darkness. "Impressssed?" He hissed. "Come out and find out why I've killed so many." He taunted, chuckling.

"You have a lot to answer for, Croc. Your sins are inexcusable." The voice came out again.

"So come fight me, coward. I'm not going back to Arkham." he growled, getting into a battle stance.

"No. You're not." The voice responded, and Croc raised a brow. "No… you're going straight to the afterlife."

Croc growled in pain as a force slammed into his back, sending him sprawling into the water. He roared, turning around in time to block a scythe from decapitating him. He cackled, shoving the black clad man off of him, getting to his feet. "Fool. I'll feast on your bones!" Croc threatened, lunging for the figure. He cried out in confusion as he suddenly disappeared, and felt a powerful kick connect to his back. He turned to see his hooded foe disappear into thin air again, and once again was kicked in the back. He growled, the prick was teleporting. "Coward! Fight me like a man!"

The man reappeared in front of him, sending his elbow straight into Croc's jaw. He gripped his jaw, pulling it away to see chipped teeth fragments in his hand. He roared in rage, grabbing at the man. He sidestepped Croc's attack, drawing his scythe and tripping Croc into the water. Croc turned for his face to meet the man's boot, growling as he felt blood trickle down his face. He roared again, and grabbed out. The man teleported once more, but Croc had learned. He immediately swung his fist around, knocking the man into the wall, sending his scythe flying off to the side. He cackled as he stalked towards the man as he struggled to his feet. He grabbed him, lifting him to his jaw. "You little pest. You thought you could beat Croc?!"

The man stopped struggling, meeting Croc's eyes. "I can. And I will." In a flash of movement, he reached to his belt and drew a dagger, slashing it across Croc's eye. He howled, letting the man go to hold a hand to his eye. He roared, turning to kill the pest, instead facing the man lunging towards him with his scythe. Before Croc could stop him, he slashed the blade across Croc's chest, blood gushing from the wound. He kicked Croc to the ground, standing on top of him and placing the blade against his throat. "It's time to pay for your sins, Jones." he growled, drawing his scythe up for the killing blow.

As he brought it down, he was knocked off of Croc by a black blur. He stood back up, to a black bladed projectile knocking his scythe away. A fist connected to his jaw, and he went sprawling to the ground. As he looked up, he met the stoic eyes of the Batman. "Stay down." He commanded.

The man looked past Batman's shoulder, clutching his chest as he struggled to regain his wind. "Croc… Behind you…"

Batman turned just in time to reach up and grab Croc's jaws as he lunged in to bite the Bat. Batman gritted his teeth as Croc snapped his jaws, putting all his strength into avoiding his face being torn off.

The force subsided as a leather clad fist shot past his face, nailing Croc between the eyes. The Reaper lunged past Batman, kicking Croc into the water and stomping his face. Batman saw Croc's hand move to grab the Reaper's leg, and in a flash tossed a batarang that embedded itself in the scaly claw.

Reaper grabbed Croc by the shoulders, yanking him to the wall and drawing his scythe.

Batman lunged for him, knocking him to the side before he could deal a killing blow, and was met by Croc's fist punching him into the water. Batman scowled at his foe, going into a defensive stance.

Croc growled, licking his teeth. "I've got your scent, Batman. I will suck the marrow from your bones!" He roared, his reptilian eyes flashing with rage. He swiped at Batman, who in turn side stepped and kicked out at Croc. Croc retaliated, grabbing Batman by the waist and heaved him over his head. Then the gravelled voice rang out, "Stay out of the water, Batman!" Followed by Croc's screams as the water suddenly hummed with an electrical current. He dropped Batman, who twisted and kicked off his chest to land on the concrete. The Reaper was a few yards away, electrical cable ripped out of the wall and was holding the cable in the water. Croc writhed, falling into the water. Batman scowled as he raced for the Reaper, kicking out at him. Reaper dropped the cable, blocking Batman's attack and grabbing his arm, shoving him into the wall. He held him there, and Batman glanced at Croc, who was slowly starting to move less and less. He drew a batarang, tossing it at the cable, cutting it in half. The part in the water fell, the current cut off. Batman felt the anger rise in the Reaper as he brought up his legs and kicked the hooded man away. He stood back up to his full height, drawing his cape back around his shoulders and glaring at The Reaper.

He was staring at the unmoving body of Croc. Batman was relieved to see his chest heaving up and down. "I'm not stupid, Batman." The man rasped, drawing Batman's attention back to him. "I know I won't get to kill Croc now without going through you. So go ahead, take him back to Arkham." His head lowered, and Batman could feel the glare. "But he will escape the Asylum again. And when he does, you'll be too late."

Batman scowled, but before he could respond, the Reaper disappeared into thin air. Right. Teleportation. He looked back at the unconscious Crocodile. It was not going to be easy lugging his body back up to the surface.

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In an abandoned warehouse, about half a mile beyond the outskirts of the city, nature long ago having retaken the walls and windows, a man in a lab coat was struggling to lift a computer onto a table.

He huffed, dropping the corner again. He ran his sweaty hands through his greasy red hair, fixing his glasses. Where the hell was…

He jumped as the computer was suddenly lifted in the air, and grinned to see his hooded friend carrying the electronic to the table. "I keep asking you to stop sneaking up on me like that."

The Reaper grunted as he set the computer on the table. "Sorry, Mark. Habit."

Mark smiled, pushing his glasses up again. "I think I got too used to the cold air in Canada. We need to get an AC in here." He said, grabbing a smaller computer he was able to heft up next to the larger one. "So. How was Croc? Which verse did you leave for him?"

He frowned at his friend's initial silence. Something was off. "Croc is alive." He responded, grabbing a box full of test tubes and unloading it onto another table. "Batman intervened before I could kill him."

Mark made a face. "He's gonna be a pretty big obstacle huh? This is gonna be one of our hardest projects yet."

The Reaper sighed, sliding down the wall into a kneeling position. "We knew Gotham was going to be a long term project. Even after all the big guys are taken down, Joker, Riddler, Croc, Zsasz, etcetera, there's still all the 'henchmen' that need to be taken care of. And all the while we need to be even more careful than usual. Batman isn't like the police."

Mark nodded, plugging in the computers, the dim room brightening significantly as the screens buzzed to life. "We'll get it done. We always do."

The Reaper gazed around. "Since we're staying awhile, we should make it a bit more homey. Maybe go furniture shopping tomorrow while I start gathering data on the city's loose criminals."

Mark nodded sitting down next to the Reaper. "I brought your stuff in. Box is over there." He said, nodding to a corner. The Reaper patted his friend's shoulder in thanks as he went to unload his belongings. "Get some sleep tonight, Mark. Starting tomorrow we bust our asses."

Mark nodded, yawning. "Will do. You do the same, can't have you staying up all night every night."

The Reaper reached into his box, tossing out the sleeping bag and bringing out his crucifix and setting it next to the bag. He glared out the window, the building lights of Gotham seen in the distance. "The Reaper Cometh." he whispered to himself. "Hell hath no fury like my blade. Watch yourself, Batman."

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Arkham Asylum was an intimidating place. The Gothic buildings and structures, the aura of darkness the entire island seemed to give off. The sheer number of murderers, rapists, psychopaths and maniacs inside would be enough to drive anyone without nerves of steel away.

But the intensive treatment, this was where the worst of the evil resided. And in the deepest cell, in the darkest corner, in the most heavily guarded area of the Asylum, resided the Clown Prince of Crime. Eyes on him at all times, straightjacket reinforced by a chain to the wall. The Joker was under the heaviest level of security they could muster. And yet, he never lost his smile. At this very moment, he was grinning as he turned over recent news in his head. Croc had almost immediately been brought back, and closer to death than the Batman would ever dare take him. Along with his return came the whispers of a black hooded man, hunting down the criminals of Gotham. He chuckled, his eyes glinting with malice. "Now this I gotta see." He commented to himself, his laugh rising.

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Second chapter done. The Reaper has made his intentions clear, now it's all leading to a battle of the vigilantes. How many will die in between?


	3. Bring Me His Head

**Hey guys! So before I start this, I wanted to shout out to a story. TheLoneClone is writing an SYOC Batman fic, and it's his story that actually led me to create The Reaper. He's been accepted as my OC, and so far the story is really good, check it out. It's called "Defenders of Gotham"**

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It had been three days since Killer Croc's swift capture. And in that time, eleven more people had been murdered. Bruce sat at the Batcomputer, going through the files and evidence. Just like he had with the Buckhold brothers, he had murdered them in various ways, each time a verse etched into the scene, whether it was on the wall, the ground, in one case into the body of the victim himself. And each time, not a trace of evidence. DNA aside, he couldn't tell where the Reaper went whenever he finished. There was no rhyme or reason to the assassinations, he simply found his target and killed them in any nearby secluded area.

Alfred walked up behind his friend, staring in disdain at the images. "Master Bruce, so sorry to take you away from… this… but you have been invited to attend the opening of the new hospital." he explained, holding out a suit and tie.

Bruce sighed, pushing himself away from the computer. "Thank you, Alfred." He took the suit by the hangar, retreating to his dressing station.

While Bruce changed, Alfred looked over the reports. "No luck locating his residence, sir?"

"None. At first I thought perhaps investigating the abandoned churches around Gotham would be a good place to start, but no luck there. If he' settle for any abandoned residence, then there's any number of places for him to choose from. Factories, apartment complexes, shops… And he very well could be posing as a citizen and staying in a public residence." He responded, stepping out of the chamber, dressed for the ceremony.

Alfred led his employer up the steps back to the mansion. "I've already started the car and placed your hair styling products in the backseat. We must hurry, it wouldn't do for you to be late." Bruce smiled. He didn't know what he'd do without Alfred.

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"And it is our hope that with the new, modern medical technology, paid for by Mr. Wayne's generous donation… the citizens of Gotham city will be better off than ever, with access to the best the field of medicine has to offer." The Mayor boomed. Bruce smiled and waved as needed, turning his attention back to the mayor. "So it is with great pleasure that I open Mercy Hospital!" He announced, turning with his comically sized scissors and cutting the red ribbon. Applause roared out, Bruce standing and clapping along. The new medical staff proceeded inside, and mayor went down to the crowds to answer questions. Bruce took a deep breath, his part was done. Back to his investigation.

Alfred pulled the limo around the side, waiting patiently for Bruce. As he headed for the vehicle, however, he heard screams ring out. He started running for the car, Alfred sighing and popping open the secret compartment where the Batsuit lay.

After swiftly changing, Batman took to the rooftops, making his way towards the screams' origin. Police had already arrived, and he scowled as a corpse came into his field of vision. People had already gathered in a crowd to see the horror, a man strung up on a rope, hung from a post. Secluded in an alleyway, and Batman could see from here the bright red scrawling on the wall. He glanced to the side as a police cruiser came into view.

"Sorry for the public display." Came the familiar graveled voice. Batman whipped around to see the Reaper leaning against a wall. "The guy down there was trying to rape a girl. She thought I was you, and I didn't want you getting any bad attention." He started walking towards the glaring Bat. "Listen. After our little bout with Croc, I thought it would be a good idea to talk. I want to make this clear: I have no mal intent to the innocents of Gotham, nor do I intend harm upon you. I actually respect you, you've done an excellent job keeping this city safe." He started circling Batman as he raised a brow. "But it's not enough. You can't be too blind to see that despite your efforts this is one of the most crime ridden cities in America. Psycho clowns running amok, the police force too corrupt to do any real good. These people you so valiantly try to force through the legal system can't be detained. I'm here to ensure justice is brought to them."

"This isn't justice, it's murder. You don't get the right to decide who lives and dies. These people need to be brought in and go to court." Batman retorted.

"But it's never going to come to that! They keep escaping! Breaking out! The courts take too long to set everything up. And every time you bring them in, they just set everything back to square one. Too many innocent lives have been taken, Batman." He argued, turning to face the Bat head on. "Putting them down is the only way to ensure they never kill again."

Batman narrowed his eyes. "It's wrong. You're mutilating their bodies and showing them off in some sick ritual."

"And they deserve every cut. Every burn. Every amputation, every bit of pain that comes to them is deserved. They need to suffer for their sins. And sitting in a padded cell while psychiatrists pone and prod at them isn't proper payment."

" _Their_ sins?" Batman questioned, raising his voice. "You're a killer too. There's nothing holy about what you're doing."

"Of course not." Reaper responded to Batman's surprise. "Of course I'm a sinner, you think I don't know that?" He sighed, turning away and gazing down at the crime scene. "Look. I crossed that line years ago. I became a sinner long before I started to do what I do. It was already too late for me." He turned back to the Bat. "I _will_ suffer for my own sins. I accept that. But until then, I intend to make sure that the evil suffer as well. I intend to leave the mortal realm a better place when I die, better off and with fewer criminals plaguing the lives of the innocents."

"Doesn't God believe in forgiveness?" Batman questioned, walking closer to the hooded man. "Don't they deserve a chance for redemption?"

"Only if they mean it. And you and I both know these criminals will never truly repent. They're arrogant, evil, greedy. If they're meant to be forgiven, then that's between them and God. I intend to arrange the meeting." He growled. "I respect you. I respect that this is your city. And I respect that you'll do everything in your power to stop me. In fact, I admire your resolution. But I wanted you to know that while my actions may seem barbaric to you, I am well intentioned. I want only to protect God's children, for they cannot protect themselves." He started walking towards the edge. "Go ahead and try to stop me. But know that you will have to kill me to do so. See you around, Batman."

Batman's scowl deepened as the Reaper leapt off the side, and as he suspected, once he looked over the side he had disappeared. He raised a hand to his cowl. "Alfred, can you run a Bible down to the Batcomputer?"

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Roman Sionis stared at the corpse in front of him. The gun in his hand still smoking, the rest of his men looking terrified. "Let that be a lesson." He growled, setting the pistol on the desk and sitting in his chair. "Next one to try and sell me out to the cops will get a lot worse. Understand?" the men nodded frantically. "Good. Now get the hell out of here." As the men left, he pressed a button on his desk. "Janet, call me the second my guests arrive." he leaned back in his chair, swivelling around to stare out at the falling sun as Gotham once more descended into darkness. Life had been good for Black Mask the past few weeks. Old Falcone had finally kicked the bucket, and profits were higher than ever.

But he was afraid his winning streak was nearing it's end. The previous night someone had slaughtered his men in a warehouse, leaving some Biblical shit written on the ground in blood. The news was all over this new vigilante, The Reaper. And if he was targeting criminals, then he was in trouble. And there was no way in Hell he was going to sit back and wait for some hooded bitch to kill him.

"Mr. Sionis, they've arrived." Came the voice of his secretary.

He reached over, pressing the button. "Good. Send them in." He swiveled around in his chair to see Deadshot walk in first. The sharpshooter had been his go to assassin lately, but he wasn't taking any chances. Firefly walked in after him, followed by Copperhead and Captain Boomerang. He narrowed his eyes, lacing his fingers together. "Gentleman. I've called you here because your skills are unmatched. There is a new pest in Gotham, and he isn't quite as friendly as the Bat. So I'm putting a price on his head. Ten million dollars to whoever brings me his head on a platter."

Firefly let out a rasping laugh, Captain Boomerang grinning and his eyes lighting up. "Consider it done, mate. Anything to go on?"

"Only that he targets other criminals. No one has been able to figure anything else out." Black Mask replied. "That will be all. Now go kill that piece of shit and bring his corpse to me."

The assassins complied, exiting the room. Except for Deadshot, that is. He was staring at Black Mask. "I thought I was your assassin."

"You are." Black Mask snapped. "But this is my neck on the line, and I'm not taking any chances. He smirked. "Don't worry, I'm sure you'll be the one to bring him in. Dismissed."

Deadshot glared at him, but turned and left. Black Mask grinned, turning around again to stare out of the window. "Time's running out, Reaper."

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 **Review!**


	4. Flames of Hell

Marconi sighed, rubbing his temples. "You're telling me, that the shipment was destroyed by a _boy?!_ " He shouted, his subordinate cowering. He glared at him. "Tell me how this happened!"

"I-it was Robin, sir. He showed up, and he just… he just took out all our men. Then he took the boat to the police…"

"Batman wasn't even with him?! How can you not take care of a brat in easter colors?! Get out! Get out of my office before I have you killed!" He demanded, not giving the man a chance to answer. He groaned as he swung around in his office chair. This was a huge loss, he would lose thousands of dollars over this, perhaps even a million. At this rate Black Mask was going to get so far ahead he'd never catch up. His head shot up as he detected a presence. He turned around, and spotted a shadowy figure in the corner. He scowled. "Batman. What the hell do you want now?"

The figure didn't answer at first. "Batman isn't here." Came a gravelled voice. "Only your penance, Marconi."

Marconi paled. Whispers of the Reaper had been spreading like wildfire across Gotham's underworld. "R-Reaper?" The hooded man stepped out of the shadows, and Marconi stumbled as he backed away as he drew a long scythe. The figure suddenly dashed forward, grabbing Marconi by the throat and effortlessly lifting him into the air. "Ack, please! I don't deserve this! I haven't done anything!"

"You can lie to me, Marconi, you can lie to the police, you can lie to everyone else. But the one Judge who matters, can't be lied to." He growled. "God has seen your sins, as have I. It's time to pay."

"I-I can give you anything! Money! Power! I have friends in the police, I can get you anything!" He begged.

The Reaper swung him around, slamming him onto his table. "Take your death like a man, scum. At least save your cowardice from your demise." He stepped back, raising his scythe. Marconi screamed as The Reaper swung the blade down, impaling his body. Marconi gasped, gripping the handle of the scythe as the life withdrew from his eyes. The Reaper stared at him for a moment, before leaning down and dipping his gloved finger into the growing pool of blood. He turned to the wall, starting to scrawl Marconi's verse, reading aloud to himself as he recited. "…and he said unto him…" He was cut off by the window smashing apart, grabbed from the room and tossed into the street. The Reaper acted quickly, activating his teleporter and transporting himself to the street below. He looked up in time to see what looked like a fireball descending rapidly to his location. He turned and ran into an alley, jumping to the wall then leaping to the other one, repeating this until he had made his way to the roof of the next building. He turned to see the fire rise, and in it saw a man in a jetpack, carrying a large flamethrower. He growled, dodging as a stream of fire was shot to him. He knew this man, Firefly. He glared at Firefly, who let out a rasping laugh. "You're the one who's gotten everyone so scared?" He rasped. "I'm not impressed."

The Reaper didn't answer, instead drawing his scythe and leaping towards Firefly. He in turn flew away, projecting flames to his target. The Reaper evaded every blast of fire, slowly catching up to his new target as he raced across the rooftops.

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"Master Bruce, this is two nights in a row you've failed to sleep. Need I remind you are not in fact an actual bat?" Alfred chided.

Bruce sighed, flipping another page as he studied the Bible Alfred had provided him. "I don't have time to sleep, Alfred. I need to figure out how to take The Reaper down before he kills everyone in Arkham."

Alfred huffed, setting a tray with breakfast on it next to Bruce. "By the Way, Tim told me to tell you 'Good morning' before he went off to school."

Bruce smiled at this. "Thank you, Alfred." He spared his butler a glance. "I'll get some sleep, I promise. After I finish reading this…" He was cut off by the Batcomputer flashing, and both of them turned to see helicopter footage of Firefly… being chased by The Reaper. Bruce scowled, pulling his cowl over his head. "…After I take care of this."

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Firefly was panicking. The Reaper had managed to get close enough to get a slash in, and now his protective suit had a tear in it, a flesh wound bleeding beneath the material. His target was too evasive, he had barely singed the tattered tunic. He flew up higher, looking around. His eyes lit up behind his mask as a theater came into view. He rocketed towards this, letting fire fly as he lit the building ablaze. He laughed as the screams erupted from inside, and he flew in. He would bring the target into his domain of fire.

But to his surprise The Reaper didn't follow him. In fact, he ran to the entrance, and bolted inside. He growled, what the Hell was he doing?

Screams hit The Reapers ears as he raced to find the trapped civilians. Firefly would pay dearly for every life taken tonight. He stopped outside a room, seeing past the debris people huddling in a circle as the flames surrounded them. He stepped back, reaching into his satchel. "STAND BACK!" He shouted, and once he saw the surprised people comply, pulled out three glass vials, throwing them against the debris. Chemical induced smoke rose from the beams as they dissolved under the acid. In less than twenty seconds a sizable exit had been made, and he waved the people through, pointing them to the path he had cleared to the exit. He saw a woman stay inside, and as he ran in to get her out he saw her crying as she worked to try in vain to lift a beam to free her trapped child. Anger surged through him, rage against the arsonist as he ran forward, pushing the woman out of the way and lifting the beam. His muscles trembled as he slowly lifted the metal, groaning under the effort as he raised it high enough for the boy to crawl out. He let the beam drop, taking the woman and boy and leading them to the exit. He pointed them through, and once he was sure everyone was out he drew his scythe, stalking through the burning building. He pressed a finger to his ear. "Mark, I was ambushed by Firefly. What can you tell me about him?"

"Lemme see…" Came his partner's voice. "Garfield Lynns, a.k.a. Firefly. Diagnosed pyromaniac, convicted arsonist, thief, murderer. Now a days he's a mercenary. Wields a powerful flame projector on his arm, and a high power jetpack. His suit covers up severe burns on 90% of his body."

"Any exploitable weaknesses?" He asked.

"Well, looking at all these reports, he's cocky. Arrogant." Mark replied. "But be careful, he's ruthless too."

"That much is obvious. He started burning down a building full of innocents." He growled. "I'm going to find him, I'll call you when I'm done. Thanks."

"No problemo. Be careful."

Embers flew in his face, falling wood and metal all around. He turned a corner, seeing only a pile of beams. To his fury he spotted a body impaled by the wreckage, and he turned around to stare at the ceiling. "Show yourself, Firefly. Judgement is at hand."

"Cut the bullcrap, asshole." Came the hoarse reply. "You'll be the one burning tonight." A rasping laugh followed this, and The Reaper scowled. He gazed around, and spotted a figure through the smoke.

Firefly jumped when The Reaper suddenly disappeared from his sight. He growled, looking around before he was tackled from his vantage point from behind. On the way down, his jetpack was ripped off, tossed to the side as he landed on his back, the breath leaving his lungs temporarily.

He rolled onto his back to stare into the black void of The Reaper's hood as he advanced towards him. He raised his flamethrower, shooting a pillar of flame to his attacker. The Reaper disappeared, reappearing behind him and lifting him into the air. The Reaper turned, throwing Firefly's body at the wall. He let out a cry as he felt his back crack from the impact as he fell to the floor. He tried crawling away, but was hoisted into the air and slammed against the wall. The Reaper leaned in, the heat of his gaze overpowering the surrounding fire. "I know you, Firefly. You're a hired assassin. Who put out a hit on me?"

He squirmed in his iron grip. "You should be asking who hasn't? The entire criminal underworld is talking about you, everyone wants you dead."

"I'm asking who hired _you_." He growled, tightening his grip around Firefly's throat. "And who else is coming after me?"

Firefly laughed. "You're dead, bitch. Black Mask has the best of the best."

"If they're on par with you, then I'm not impressed." The Reaper growled, dropping Firefly to the ground. He drew his scythe. "You've surrounded yourself with fire all your life. But the flames of Hell are like no other." he chanted, raising his scythe. Firefly tried one last time to crawl away, but was held to the ground by the killer's boot. "Now, you will know what it is to truly burn." he brought the blade down, and Firefly desperately smacked the blade away in time to crawl away and start wildly firing flames all over the room. The Reaper groaned in pain as flames licked his face, and Firefly caught a glimpse of the infuriated face of the Reaper, his blue eyes icy and murderous. He dove through the fire and grabbed Firefly's arm, ripping the device off and aiming it at the arsonist. Firefly screamed as he was engulfed in his own flames.

His screams died to a groan as he died. The flames were spreading, no time to scrawl a verse. He turned to exit the building, and was met by a fist to the face. He flew back into the wall, dropping his scythe. He looked up to see the silhouette of Batman against the fire. "Batman." he growled, grinning. "I'm afraid you're too late. Firefly and Marconi both lie dead."'

Batman scowled as he grabbed him by the collar of his tunic, hoisting him into the air. "No more!" He growled. "I'm bringing you in."

The Reaper barked out a laugh. "You cannot stop my crusade, Batman. Even if you could bring me in, I would escape." On the last word he teleported behind the dark knight, kicking him into the wall. Batman whipped around, tossing a trio of batarangs at the retreating Reaper. He in turn swung around to bat away the projectiles with his scythe. He reached into his satchel, taking out another vial and throwing it at the ceiling. The glass shattered, and the acid ate away at the metal, beams falling and separating the two vigilantes. "Divine Justice shall come to the scum of Gotham, Batman. Go ahead and try to stop me, but nothing short of death will stop me until every murdering psychopath in this city is dead."

Batman peered through a crack in the pile at the Reaper. "I won't allow this. You won't get away with this killing spree."

"And why not? Zsasz has gotten away with his. And how many people has the Joker killed?" he argued. "Justice isn't being enacted here. I intend to change that." he turned, walking away to the exit. "See you around, Batman."

Batman punched the wall in frustration, turning to leave the building. He leapt out a window, a burst of flame igniting through the room a few seconds later. He landed on a building, turning to watch the firefighters doing their job. His ear beeped, and he raised a hand. "What is it, Oracle?"

"Batman, the police are interviewing the witnesses. They're all saying the same thing, Firefly flew in, lit the place up, and instead of going after him, The Reaper ran inside. Batman, he saved an entire room of people trapped." Barbara told him.

This took Batman by surprise. He narrowed his eyes in thought. "He put saving civilians over his 'crusade'. Interesting."

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Black Mask roared in rage as he threw his wineglass against the wall. Deadshot leaned against the wall, watching in amusement as he raged. "He really got his ass handed to him."

Black Mask whipped around to glare at the assassin. "What the hell are you even doing here?!" he screamed. "Why aren't you out hunting that bastard down?!"

"I will. But I figured, he only comes out to kill criminals. So, I'm waiting until one of the other idiots you hired goes after him. And while he's preoccupied…" He made a finger gun, mimicking firing it. "Bang."

Black Mask rolled his eyes, turning to glare out the window. "You better. And you better do it soon, he's coming after me now. And if I'm dead…" he smirked at the assassin. "…You don't get paid."

"Noted." Deadshot replied. "Though, as more of you go down, I'm sure even if you die, there'll be plenty mob bosses willing to hire me." he teased, smirking. Black Mask only growled, gripping the side of his desk.


End file.
